


There's More Than One of Everything

by Macx



Series: Shifter 'verse (Rat and Shark) [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:51:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik Lehnsherr was born different. He was one of the Cursed. He was a shark, a trained killer, a weapon created by Sebastian Shaw. And he was a loner -- until Charles Xavier stepped into his life and followed him home. Erik had no idea who and what Charles really was, aside from annyoing and irritating and so adorable.<br/>But he is about to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea was like an addiction and I couldn't get rid of it, staring at the wonderful art that inspired me. I bounced some ideas off elfin... was awake half the night because my brain wouldn't shut up... and this was written within a day!  
> (I had planned a few scenes, two pages tops! Now it's... big... Go Figure!).

I totally blame this on the [ Rat and Shark comics](http://chuchacz.tumblr.com/tagged/Ratty_Charles_and_Erik_the_Shark). Totally!

Also inspired by [this wonderful piece of art](http://imnotgoodwithnames.tumblr.com/post/8154655333/erm-are-they-called-ratty-charles-and-erik-idk)

  


  
Erik Lehnsherr still remembered the day that Charles Francis Xavier had stepped into his life. It was burned into his mind whether he wanted it to be or not. From one day to the next he had acquired a shadow. Dressed in pressed shirts that looked rumpled after a day, sweater vests and suit pants, he had looked nothing like the people Erik usually kept company with.

Not that he had kept company with anyone outside the necessary interaction, which was limited to the occasional chance meeting.

Charles he hadn’t met by chance. Charles had sought him out. He had come to this lonely house at the end of an unpaved road, with immediate access to a gravel beach. Charles, who had kept asking him about his past, about his life, about his Shifter abilities. A man he couldn’t get rid of.

And he had tried.

Oh, he had tried.

Nothing worked. No threats, no silent treatment, no leaving the man in his home for days as he swam the ocean and tried to forget about Xavier.

Charles would always be there, smiling brightly, a picture of quizzical innocence, endless curiosity and an appreciation for what others would call a Curse.

Erik had been born different. Right from the day he could walk he had been attracted to the ocean and the sea creatures feared him. Actually, land creatures, too. His parents had been normal people. As had been all of his family, and all friends and their family. Erik had been different and he had found out just how much when he had hit puberty.

Because he Shifted. He changed his human shape and became a predator of the sea. He was a shark with a sleek, tapered body, fast and dangerous.

Cursed, they called him. The others feared him, turned away from a confused young boy.

Gifted, another had explained to his fearful parents before Erik had been taken away to be trained and taught by Sebastian Shaw. He had hoped for his parents to come and get him one day; they never had.

It was throughout those torturous years, filled with pain and conditioning, shaping him into the perfect weapon for Shaw to use as he pleased, that he discovered he had a different ability as well. He could bend metal to his will. It was what proved to be his way of escaping the madman’s clutches. Shaw didn’t find out until the day he took one of his eyes out with a knife that Erik Lehnsherr was more than a simple Shifter.

Shaw was still out there and if he ever found the man he would kill him, but so far he had only managed to take care of some of his allies. Erik had left a trail of blood in his wake, dead bodies littering his way, and people feared him. His name was whispered with terror.

He didn’t care.

It actually suited his purpose.

Erik had always chosen a place to live close by the sea, paying for what he needed with the money he had stolen from Shaw and invested well. He lived alone. People tried not to be close to him. Those who knew what he was avoided him on purpose, those who didn’t instinctually feared him.

He was a Shark.

The only waterbound Shifter, the only predator of the sea, he knew of. A dominant male. Sharks hunted and lived alone. Sharks didn’t need companions. He spent days, maybe weeks, within the cold, dark depths of his element, feeding, exploring, fighting those who dared challenge him.

Alone.

Until Charles Xavier. A scientist, a scholar, a man from the city. A pampered child in his eyes, with no idea of the hard realities of life. Out on a boat, watching him, making notes.

Erik had approach him several times, running dangerously close, but Xavier hadn’t tried to shoot him, hit him or attempted to flee. Erik had been annoyed at first, then curious, then outright provocative in his approaches.

So Charles had followed him home.

Erik snorted. Yes, he had. And now he was playing host to a scientist who explored mutations. Apparently Erik was the most fascinating he had ever found and for reasons Lehnsherr couldn’t describe he tolerated Charles’ presence like no one else’s before.

Charles was indescribable. He was there, determined and bright-eyed. He asked simple questions, and Erik found himself answering. He told him about himself, about his abilities. Charles wrote it all down, asked him about measurements, distances, feeding habits. He was invasive, but Erik found himself not minding at all. At least he didn’t ask about mating habits.

*

A few days turned into weeks.

Turned into months.

Turned into time spent together, patiently answering questions, letting the other man even touch his Shifter form. Having a human hand not intent on killing him on his skin had launched a million sensations, most prominently a need for more. Charles had been gentle, careful -- and had found himself pushed into the water by a bout of playfulness Erik hadn’t known he possessed.

He even dared swim with him. There had been no fear, just complete trust, as the much smaller human in the tight diver’s suit that protected him against the deadly cold of the ocean swum with a twenty foot long, sleekly streamlined gray-black shark. The whole exercise had Erik nearly jumping him and taking what he so badly wanted. He wanted Charles, he wanted it all, he wanted to be buried deep within the smaller body and hear him cry out Erik’s name.

Within a week of swimming together for the first time, Charles made it a regular occasion until Lehnsherr could no longer restrain himself. They didn’t even make if off the beach and into the house. He shifted from shark to human faster than ever before, tackling Charles to the ground and devouring him hungrily.

“Took you long enough,” had been Charles’ comment after the first time, looking well-fucked and smug and so edible, Erik had been simply breathless.

After the beach Erik felt himself grow possessive of Charles, felt the predator want to mark. Their encounters were wild, unrestrained, and he felt guilty over simply taking sometimes, but Charles was just as much the initiator, and he didn’t try to take on the alpha role.

Not that sharks were pack animals. Erik was simply dominant and used to getting what he wanted. Charles was a manipulative little bastard who got him to do what he wanted anyway.

Until the Shark did claim him.

Drawing blood as he bit down, taking in the other man’s scent and taste, imprinting him on the Shark’s senses and claiming him.

The expression in the smooth face, those incredibly blue eyes, had been one of needwantlustacceptancemore. No disgust. Charles had fully well known what the bite had meant, what the taste had meant. The Shark would recognize him anywhere, any time. The very sight of the bite mark had Erik jump Charles’ bones twice more within twenty-four hours, and no room was safe.

How could one man have this effect?

For the first time in a very long life, Erik Lehnsherr was afraid of someone.

Of Charles Xavier, the unassuming scientist with the impossibly floppy hair, the bright blue eyes and a presence that was overwhelming. A man who had stormed into his life and taken over.

*

“Erik?”

He looked at his guest, at someone his Shifter side, the Curse, called ‘mate’ and wanted to claim forever. Erik didn’t want this man to leave again; ever. He was afraid of his own possessiveness, what this meant, what Charles would do if he found out. Sharks didn’t have partners. Shifters rarely did; some of the landbound with more benign forms, maybe. But the predators were beyond control, scaring their bedmates, frightening humans who didn’t expect their animalistic behavior. Erik had never pondered the idea of a permanent lover; his past encounters had been docile compared to what he and Charles had been up to. He would have terrified those past one-night stands; he had yet to find something that disgusted or terrified Charles.

But Charles would leave one day, when he was done researching, when the Shark was no longer of interest.

“Do you trust me?”

The question, which came out of the blue, stunned him, made him speechless, and he stared at Charles, who, under any other circumstances, he would never have called his equal in anything. But he was. More so. Charles held a power over him that had nothing to do with how compatible he felt in Erik’s mind. It was so much more.

“Yes,” he heard himself answer.

Charles smiled; not with triumphant, just warmth and love. “Then trust me when I tell you that I’ll never betray you. I’m not leaving you.”

“You can’t stay here,” Erik said roughly. “This isn’t your life!”

“My life is my own. I have no obligations anywhere. My life is learning about mutations, about those incredible gifts. I can do that here as well as anywhere else. And no one will miss me, Erik.”

Aside from the Shark. Aside from a vicious loner who had never needed anyone and now looked upon Charles Xavier like he was the most precious of things.

And he was.

The night was filled with little sleep and a lot of other things. Erik refused to give in to the predator in him until Charles gave him this exasperatedly fond look.

“Let go. I know you. I want you.”

It was enough to break the chain he had on his Shifter side.

Charles bore the marks for a week to prove it.

* * *

For all his pursuit of Shaw, Erik had never figured that he could be on anyone’s list. People feared him. He made sure to change houses often enough, that he never settled down. Maybe he had been in this one place long enough; maybe Shaw had grown tired of being the hunted and sent out his hunters in turn; maybe Charles, for all his pleasantness, had acquired some unsavory opposition. In a world where the Cursed were shunned and seen as abnormal, studying those poor souls might not be the best choice in life.

Of course they had waited for Erik to follow his instinct, swim in the ocean and hunt while Charles spent the time writing and reading.

Not that Charles went down easily, or willingly. But he did suffer, facing a Cursed who blocked his own gifts and delivered him to those who would do the dirty work.

They chased him. They knew who he was, what he was, what he could do. They came prepared.  
Charles ran, but he was no match, and the pain of the injuries he received crippled his mind.

He desperately tried to get out of the house, but it was too late.

They caught him.

The knife burned as it drew blood.

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

With one last kick the small body went sailing over the edge and hit the water, creating only a small splash. But it wasn’t the splash that attracted the attention in the moving sea; it was the blood. Olfactory senses far more advanced and sensitive than a human’s, the predators immediately took note.

Erik’s shark side did, too. But it also noticed something else; the familiarity of the smell, the blood. It sang to him, called to him, but not to eat.

He knew.

He had tasted this before.

He had imprinted.

The large gray-black body shot forward, through the approaching smaller sharks, following the enticing scent.

And he saw it. A small form, blood leaking from an injury to the paw, dark brown fur, eyes closed. It was a mammal, a rodent the size of a cat. That was all that registered; that and the smell.

Charles. It smelled of Charles.

Erik had a fraction of a second to feel the anger before he bullied a smaller shark out of the way. Jaws opened and closed around the tiny mammal, then Erik pushed away from the throng of restless sharks toward safer waters. Safer for Charles. The sharks wouldn’t dare to attack one like him.

Trapped behind viciously sharp, serrated teeth, just a swallow away from being shark food, the rat lay limp and unconscious.

*

Taking a half-drowned rat to his home, toweling it off and checking its injuries had never featured on Erik’s list of What I Might Do One Day. Knowing by smell, by instinct, that the rat was Charles was puzzling and infuriating at the same time. There was only one explanation for it.

Charles had lied to him.

He was a Shifter, like Erik. A landbound Shifter, sure, but he was as cursed as they all were.

He looked down at the animal with the damp fur, the injured paw, and wondered why. He wondered a lot about Charles Xavier on a daily basis, starting at why he would voluntarily spend time with Erik Lehnsherr, a Shark and very dangerous predator, up to the moment when they had first slept together. Charles had never been afraid of him.

Why?

Erik left the room, thoughts whirling.

He had thought him to be a fool at first. Unable to sense the danger he was in from a Shark or any other Shifter. Not that Erik had met many. They usually avoided him. Charles was the typical scholar, a scientist, a professor, and Erik had scoffed at the idea that this man would be more than a passing entertainment.

He had proven to be so much more, right from the beginning. The Shark had never met anyone like him before, open and quizzical, accepting and full of wonder, amazed by his abilities, calling him wonderful and brilliant.

Charles Xavier had overrun him.

And he had lied.

The dark cloud of anger returned.

Walking into the bedroom Erik found, to his surprise, that Charles had shifted, sitting on the bed in his human form, stark naked, cradling his injured wrist. It was bleeding sluggishly, probably triggered by the shift, and the smell had the predator inside him on edge.

Charles’ blood.

Drawn by someone else.

Someone had injured this man, a man he had claimed in bed. A man who had lied to him.

The conflicts were confusing.

Charles’ head snapped up, brown bangs falling into his wide blue eyes, and he moved back as his instincts told him he was confronting someone dangerous. His face was still too pale, the shadows of beard growth standing out against the skin.

He looked…

Young. Vulnerable, Endearingly confused. Perfect.

Erik fought down the need that rose inside him. _Protect. Mine. Protectminemine!_

For the first time since they had met, Charles recoiled as he faced the other man. His eyes widened a fraction and he shifted slightly against the wall.

The Shark triumphed; something inside Erik growled in anger at his own feelings.

“Charles,” he said, voice flat.

“Erik?” Charles blinked. “I… how did I…? Oh…” He blinked again. “Oh.”

“Something you want to tell me?”

The owlish look was attractive, as was the helplessness. Well, a little anyway. Erik didn’t thrive on bringing on pain and fear, it was normally a weapon to be used to his advantage, and right now having Charles afraid of him wasn’t an advantage.

“What happened?”

He smiled darkly. “You fell into the water.”

And Charles knew that. He was stalling, knowing that Erik had found out.

“When were you going to tell me, Xavier?”

Gray eyes, hard and cold as the granite rock that formed the edge of the land out here, met blue ones. Charles looked away, still cradling his hand.

“I wouldn’t have.”

“Why?” Erik hissed.

“Because it would have made no difference.”

The anger bubbled up again, turning into fury. “You’re a fucking Shifter, Xavier!”

“I’m a forest rat, Erik,” was the soft reply. “You’re a shark. I’m prey.”

He moved so quickly, it surprised himself. He heard Charles’ cry of pain and surprise as his hand was jostled, then he was kneeling over the prone man, gazing hard into the endless blue depths.

“I’m a Shark,” he agreed, voice a hiss. “I allowed you into my home, into my life, and to ask me questions. I allowed you to study me!” he spat. “And you lied!”

 _And I slept with you. I claimed you. I know your smell and your taste._

Charles’ eyes were impossibly wide, but aside from the flickers of pain there was no fear.

Erik felt something touch him, not physically, more like a brush over his mind, and he recoiled.

“You…” he whispered harshly.

Charles bit his lower lip.

 _So you can hear me!_

“In a way,” came the soft reply.

“What are you?!”

“The same as you. Please let me up, Erik.”

He snarled, strangely comfortable having the smaller man underneath him. He could smell the dried blood and he could almost feel the low thrum of pain in the abused wrist, but it was the solid form, the muscles under deceptively soft and vulnerable skin that seemed to draw him closer and closer. Naked as Charles was, the smooth chest for him to see and touch, Erik could also see the mark he had left on the other man.

 _Mine._

Charles’ fingers wrapped around his arm. The contact was almost electric and the attraction he had felt since the very first time he had laid eyes on the other man was tenfold.

“What are you doing to me?” he breathed.

“Nothing. We are sharing something more than… this…” Charles smiled apologetically. “Aside from being Shifters. Or sleeping together.”

Erik felt a low growl rise inside of him. “You can read my mind?” he demanded.

“I could. If I did. But I don’t. Never actively… unless I have to.” Charles closed his eyes, fighting his own demon. “I’m a class one telepath. And a Shifter.”

“Omega,” Erik whispered harshly, immediately aware of what it meant.

Omega Cursed. Those with more than one Curse, both equally powerful. Those who were dangerous, classified as the strongest of their kind, and hunted, like he had always been until he had taken care of the hunters and established his own rules. Those who were dominant. Charles was Omega!

“You can control metal,” Charles went on softly, eyes on him again. “You’re a Shark and a metalbender. A dominant male.”

Erik sat back, fighting the impulse to eradicate a threat; someone who knew. Someone…  
Charles.

Charles knew and he was like him.

“Is that why you came?” he asked, feeling breathless, stunned… angry. “Because I’m a unique specimen?!”

Like Shaw. Shaw had only taken him because even at such a young age, Erik had been special. He had been stronger than any other Cursed. And he had been the only shark Shifter. Landbound were almost normal compared to waterbound.

Now Charles…

He could almost taste the fury. He wanted to tear into something, hit something…

Again there was the touch. Calming and grounding.

“Stop that!”

“You will hurt yourself, Erik.”

“What is it to you, Xavier?!”

“Everything. You are everything, Erik.”

Stunned, he hissed a curse, fighting the innate fury.

“I told you the truth,” Charles went on, laying passively, making no threatening moves. He was highly aware of how tricky the situation was, as was Erik. One false move and he might accidentally hurt this man.

::You never would::

The voice was gentle, the expression in the blue eyes trusting and open.

::I trust you, Erik::

But he didn’t trust himself.

“I never wanted to hurt you with my… obfuscations,” Charles said. “I want to know about our kind. I’ve talked to many, of different origin and abilities. When I heard about you, about a Shark…” He stopped, wincing.

Erik looked sharply at him, then remembered the wrist. “Shit,” he growled and slid off the prone man. “Let me treat that.”

Charles sat up slowly, wincing more, and Erik cursed himself when bruises showed on the pale skin.

“Who did this?” he demanded as he went through his extensive medical kit.

Charles didn’t answer, just watched him. Still no fear, just curiosity. What did it take to scare this man?

::I know you:: the voice said. In his head.

Charles’ voice in his head.

Erik glared at him. A glare that had scared more powerful men away.

::I know everything about you::

Not because he had told him.

“You read my mind,” he said, voice deadly quiet.

“No. I told you, I’d never read someone without their agreement. Being a telepath means I have to protect myself against other minds or I would go insane.”

“Then how?”

Charles sighed. “When we slept together. When your emotions became so overwhelming… when you claimed me, Erik.”

Everything grew cold. He froze and stared at the other man. “What?!” he exploded.

Charles didn’t flinch, just looked away, then started to gather the blanket around him.

“I let it happen. It was an accident. I don’t know why. It never happened before…”

“Before.”

Others had slept with him, had touched what belonged to Erik. A red fog seemed to creep into his field of vision. Darkness threatened to overwhelm him. Of course Erik hadn’t been the first; logically he knew it. Charles hadn’t been a virgin.

But he had claimed him. He had made him his.

“I made a mistake,” Charles whispered and got up, the blanket held around him with his good hand. “I can undo it. I should leave. You were right.”

Erik moved without thinking, slamming the slighter man against the wall, ignoring the exclamation of surprise and pain.

“No!” he snarled. “Don’t!”

“Erik… I’m sorry about betraying your trust, about not telling you, but I never wanted… I never intended to... I didn’t think you would accept this… me… because… it never happened before and I’m sure I can undo it… can separate you…”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!” He exhaled sharply and rested his head against wall next to Charles’ head. “You’re an idiot, Charles Xavier…”

Silence greeted that statement.

“You can feel me?”

Charles looked at him; not afraid, never afraid. Only wary.

“Can. You. Feel. Me?” Erik repeated, voice sharp.

“Yes.”

“You established a telepathic connection?”

“I… yes, but I can undo it. It’s not…” Charles shut up, then nodded.

“You claimed me?”

The pale face showed conflicting emotions, but Erik knew it was true. Before he had laid claim to this man, Charles had done it to him. Maybe it had been unconsciously, but he had done it.

“You said you talked to others like me, like us.”

It got him a nod.

“But never to a Shark?”

“No.”

“You studied me long enough.” Erik raised his head enough to gaze into the blue eyes that had been his downfall. “You should know… after sleeping with me… that this wasn’t just for fun and recreation then. Not after…”

After he had taken Charles’ scent and taste.

“I never dared to hope.”

“That a Shark would want a landbound?”

“Yes.”

“But you still slept with me.”

Charles sighed. “Call it a matter of lust.”

Erik laughed roughly. “Lots of that. Actually more than that. I know lust, Charles. I wasn’t celibate in the past.”

It got him a cheeky smile.

He pushed back again, fighting the need to simply claim the man again, show him how much he felt, how strongly, and how the attack had rattled him to his very soul. He gently touched the mistreated wrist.

“Let’s take care of that now.”

He did with care and professionalism, binding the injury enough that Charles was unable to move it for a while. It would keep him from overdoing it. Erik suspected it had been sprained. There was also the matter of the cut, which was deep, but required only a few stitches. The bruises would have to heal on their own.

When he was done, Erik held the hand gently.

“Who did this?” he asked again.

Charles studied the point of contact between them. “Someone who wants you dead.”

Shaw. Sebastian Shaw.

The red cloud came back, as did the fury.

A hand cupped his face, a mind touched his, calming him, centering him, and he held on to the sanity with everything he had. Erik felt himself exhale sharply at Charles’ touch.

“Don’t run after him,” the other man said levelly. “That’s what he wants. He will kill you if you do.”

“He nearly killed you! He threw you into the ocean, for the predators to tear apart!”

It got him a sad little smile. “I wasn’t fast enough. They had someone with them who blocked me long enough for them to overwhelm me. And he was hoping you wouldn’t realize it was me and kill me.”

Erik’s world shrunk down to a pair of blue eyes transfixing him, the only thing keeping him here and not chasing after Shaw to tear him apart.

::Erik…::

Charles was everywhere. Charles was his center, his calmness, his control.

::You can get your revenge. But not today.::

He leaned forward, capturing the pale lips, tasting the sea on his lover. Charles slid the immobilized wrist around his waist, pulling him carefully closer. Erik felt the need rise, felt the predator in him want to take what was his and what another had hurt. He fought back the instinct, aware that Charles was hurt; battered and bruised. He needed rest. He needed warmth. He needed…

::I need you:: the other Shifter whispered, burying his head against Erik’s neck.

::You have me:: he replied.

He gently slid them into bed, cushioning the smaller body, arranging them that Charles was comfortable. A solid warmth next to him.

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

  
Erik barely slept that night. It wasn’t the expected storm that hit the coast as it always did throughout autumn.

Damn, time passed. Charles had spent all of summer here. Now autumn had crept up on them, chilling the air, creating massive storms, and Erik listened to it whistle around the house. It had weathered worse and it would have to anyway. This was only the beginning.

He dozed off for an hour, then he lay awake, watching Charles sleep. The wavy hair, flopping over his forehead, tousled and a mess. The bruised skin that was by now very colorful and would probably be even more so by morning. The cuts. Erik still smelled the blood, dry and flaking, but it was blood nonetheless.

His fingers carded into the wavy strands, combing them gently. Charles smelled of salt and the ocean. He smelled of warmth and home and familiarity. For all his landbound status, he seemed like a creature of the sea to Erik.

He belonged.

The Shark closed his eyes, years of a lone existence, a self-sought exile from others, crashing down in front of his eyes. The other man had done this, had destroyed his carefully woven shields and invaded his territory without regard to personal safety.

Now he was here. And he belonged.

But would this work?

Would he stay?

Erik needed the ocean. He was a Shark, a Shifter, he needed to be here. Charles was landbound, a scholar, a professor, and equally a Shifter.

“I can swim,” a sleepy voice mumbled.

Erik snorted a laugh. Yesterday he had been outraged and furious that a telepath had touched his mind. Within a night he found he didn’t mind.

“You think loudly, my friend.”

Blue eyes cracked open, still filled with sleep, and Erik brushed back the wayward hair. He leaned over and kissed the other man, tasting the lingering salt.

“You’d be the tastiest morsel in the sea,” he said softly.

“I have you to protect me.”

Erik grinned. “Because you’re mine.”

Charles smiled back. “Yes.”

No fear. No confusion. Simply a confirmation. Erik was floored again by how simple it all seemed with this man. Charles didn’t fight what this meant; he also wasn’t foolish enough to believe this was all rosy times and happiness ahead. The past months had been the prelude to all of this, filled with fights and arguments and Erik controlling his temper.

Now he knew why he had never attacked Charles.

“Would this be enough?” Erik asked calmly.

Inside he was tearing himself to pieces, fearful of the answer. Would it be enough for Charles to stay here? With him? No one else around? Charles was a scientist, he was a people person…

“You’re enough,” Charles answered seriously.

“I’m an Omega,” Erik reminded him.

Old. Growing older still. Never changing. Feared and respected and terrifying the humans wherever he went. Generations had passed while he had stayed as he was.

Charles smiled more, cupping his cheek. “So am I.”

Because they were both Shifters with an additional power. Because they were unique.

Erik felt something inside him of him unravel, felt his soul surge forward, wanting this man so bad he had to clamp down hard on his desire. Charles was hurt and everything he wanted to do to him would hurt him only more.

“Soon,” he whispered, a promise, a vow…

“Soon,” Charles replied, warmth and love in his voice and his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It was true for the next forty-eight hours since the storm didn’t abate. The rain was enough to keep anyone sane inside, and even the insane would agree to wait out the weather. The house was warm, they were dry – not that Erik actually minded water at all – and it gave Lehnsherr enough time to learn about who Charles Xavier really was.

A landbound Shifter. A telepath.

He watched his lover turn into a larger-than-average rat. Chocolate brown, longish fur, furred tail with an adorable white tip, sharp black nails on brown-skinned paws. Like Erik, Charles healed fast, even faster in rat form. Erik had never played chess with a rat and it was almost too surreal to watch Charles the rat move the pieces on their board, but he wasn’t any less perceptive or good at it.

“Isn’t being a telepath cheating?” Erik asked conversationally.

The dark eyes looked at him, whiskers twitching. ::I would never cheat:: Charles told him, sounding indignant.

Erik leaned forward, showing white teeth. “Really?”

The pointed nose wrinkled. ::Never::

“Didn’t you cheat your way into my life?”

::I never lied to you about myself. And we’re talking chess, not us::

“You just omitted a few facts. Right. Like what you are. Who you are. What you can do.”

::Not that it mattered::

No, it hadn’t. It turned Erik on to know how powerful his lover was, but it didn’t make a difference. Not anymore.

Erik told his lover to stay in his Shifter form unless he really had to become human. Healing was important. But Charles wanted to spend the night as a human, next to Erik in their bed, so he shifted back at nightfall. The Shark could only admire the elegance, the beauty, of the man he had laid a claim to. Despite everything, the fact that Charles was as much as Erik, an Omega, made him only more desirable.

“I need you,” he told the other Shifter. “All of you.”

“You have me.”

Erik kissed the claim mark, sharp indentions of teeth against pale skin. As not otherwise expected the mark was still there. It was one attribute he knew another partner would have feared, human or Cursed. Charles had simply regarded the mark with curiosity, like a scientist, and had promptly asked questions that had ended with Erik sending him over the edge with a blow-job.

Sometimes the Shark wondered how crazy nature was that it had intended his perfect mate to be this man. Charles was infuriatingly curious, quizzical, explorative and nosy! Erik felt arousal by just listening to him read from science texts!

It was unfair.

It was also highly satisfactory.

*

“Could you undo the connection?”

Charles looked up from their habitual game of chess. There was a startled expression in his eyes. “Erik?”

“You heard me. You understood me.” The Shark looked sharply at him.

Charles leaned back, the game secondary. “Yes.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

Erik laughed coldly. “How long would you last afterwards? Before going insane?”

Charles paled a little. “I didn’t…”

Erik hated doing this to his lover, but this was important. He had given it a lot of thought. Erik wasn’t stupid and he had been around long enough to take notice of a few things. Especially when it came to his little rat.

“You connected to me. You left your mark, as I did on you.” He leaned forward, showing teeth when he grinned. “You told me yourself it happened when we slept together. You bear my mark. I have yours here.” He touched one temple.

Charles was silent, gazing at the board, then finally raised his eyes. “I never did it before.”

“With your other conquests?”

“You’re not a conquest, Erik,” was the mild reproach.

The Shark almost laughed. Like a teacher and a student. Him being the student.

“Why me, Charles? What made me more interesting than any other man or woman out there?”

::Everything you are:: Charles answered by mind. ::You… you are perfect::

Erik knew he was blushing. For the first time in a long time. Charles felt like a glove that fitted him perfectly. To hear it was the other way around too… to have this amazing man look at him and just say it…

“And no, I might have trouble separating,” Charles went on, voice soft, apologetic. “Strong telepaths have to either shield or go insane.”

“Or find a mind to connect to?”

Charles nodded. “You act like a buffer,” he continued. “A way for me to… reach out without getting too much back. I apologize, Erik.”

He pushed the game aside and lithely moved to sit next to the other Shifter, his perfect little forest rat, entwining their fingers as he claimed a kiss.

“Don’t,” he whispered, “apologize. Never. Not for needing.”

No one had ever needed Erik Lehnsherr this way. As a way to balance and be sane in a world that could overwhelm a sensitive mind. No one had ever asked nothing of him… just to be there. He had always been used as a weapon, never as a peacekeeper of sorts.

It felt good.

It felt perfect.

* * *

Stupid as some hired help was, those who had attacked Charles and had nearly killed him came back before Erik had time to use what little contacts he had and find the ones responsible. Erik took care of them. He didn’t need to Shift to be deadly and the bodies were fed to his ocean kin. When he returned home his blood ran cold as he found the door broken on its hinges and signs of a struggle. Two men in dark clothes lay in the living room, both unconscious, both alive; and there was no sign of Charles.

At least not a human looking Charles.

Sitting on the back of the couch was a large, dark brown rat. His fur looked glossy and long, eyes were shiny and black, and aside from favoring one paw he appeared unharmed.

“What happened?” Erik demanded.

::They thought I would be scared of them, after the first attack. I wasn’t. And I wasn’t defenseless. Their minds are blank and they won’t remember anything. And no, please don’t kill them::

The voice had arrived directly in his head and Erik scowled at the rat. Charles scampered over the back of the couch and down one armrest. He was limping only slightly.

::I believe I should leave, though::

Because they had found Erik’s place once more and this time people had died. Whoever they worked for, most likely Shaw, there would be more.

Erik caught the rat as it tried to move past him, grabbing it by the scruff of its neck. He was a predator; he could move fast.

“You’re not leaving. We are. I’m not letting you go out there alone, Charles.”

::You were never the target::

“How do you know?”

The rat sighed. ::I read their minds::

“And?” he prodded coldly.

::They wanted me gone::

“Who, Charles? Talk!”

::Set me down?::

Erik glared at him. “You so much as try and make a run for it and I’m going to lock you up!”

He felt amusement through the mind connection, then he was looking at a stark naked Charles Xavier. His Charles. Unharmed.

Charles grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him before he sat down.

“Talk,” Erik repeated.

“I told you that you weren’t the first I talked to. And you weren’t the second. I met many mutants, although never a Shifter like you or me, and I had planned on creating a safe haven for them to come and learn about their abilities. My parents left me with some money and a place. Out in Westchester…”

Erik knew Westchester. A coastal area, about three days from his own place. There were a few fishing villages and old, abandoned manors telling of the place’s former importance and glory. Ever since the big ports, Westchester’s population had dwindled and towns had been abandoned.

“It looks like someone opposes that idea. Someone wants to keep the mutants under control, wants them to fear their gifts…”

Only Charles called it a gift. Everyone else said it was the Curse.

“Shaw,” Erik ground out.

“Him and someone else. They work together. He knows you’re here. He’s watching you.”

Waiting, Erik realized. Waiting to see what his once prized student would do.

“He fears your alliance with me.” Charles smiled dimly. “Because we’re Omegas. Because you didn’t kill me. Because of so many things. There is another place up north, one like I want Westchester to be. One where Shaw has no influence. I’ve been there, talked to those who are, as they call it, Troubled, and I talked to those who built the community for them. I want mutants to realize they aren’t lower life forms.” Charles smiled thinly, but the spirit was there, strong and unbroken. “Looks like I stepped on someone’s toes. I was warned; obviously I took the warning too lightly. But they won’t stop me. They can’t. The mutants need Westchester, they need a safe place. One town isn’t enough.”

Erik stood in front of the other man, awed by his plans, afraid for his safety, drawn to Charles Xavier like to no one else ever before. He needed him just as much as the Cursed did. A man fighting for them.

“Pack,” Erik only said, turning away.

“What?”

“Pack!” he ordered as he walked into the bedroom and pulled out a travel bag.

Charles’ blue eyes turned huge, seemingly vulnerable, and Erik stopped, looking at his lover. Something passed through those eyes and Charles bit his lower lip, then turned away.

“To Hell with it!” Erik cursed and grabbed the other man. “You’re a fucking telepath, Xavier! Use that gift! I meant pack your stuff, we’re leaving.”

“W-where?”

“Westchester.”

There was a hesitant touch and he waited, not moving, never leaving his eyes off the scientist’s face as he waited for him to see what Erik wasn’t yet saying.

“Oh,” came the small voice.

“Yes, oh.”

Erik pulled him close, fingers knotting into the blanket that separated him from the cool skin and the tight muscles.

“You’re not going there alone.”

Never alone.

“But… this is your home.”

“It was never a home, only a place to sleep. I’ve been thinking about moving on, finding another place for the next ten or twenty years.” Erik leaned his forehead against Charles’. “Or maybe longer.”

Charles laughed softly. “Longer sounds good.”

He kissed him, long and hard and deep, relaying all he felt. Erik wanted him to feel it, wanted him to see it in his mind, wanted Charles to know that this was not just for now. It was for good.

From the smile he received he knew his message had gone over.

  
There wasn’t much to pack. Actually, it all fit into the water-proof bag Erik normally took with him when he changed houses. Charles’ own possessions were mainly his notebooks. They fit between the clothes Erik had packed.

Since it was too dangerous to take the land route, Erik did what he always did when he got sick and tired of a place: he took to the ocean. The bag was a special construction that allowed him to shift and fit it to his back, looping around his pectoral fins, without obstructing his maneuverability.

For the first time in history a rat sat on the back of a shark, riding the waves, and enjoying himself.

Charles was drenched, but radiating happiness. Erik laughed to himself, feeling the happiness within him like a warm rain.

 _I love you_ , he thought.

Small paws held on to him and Charles reflected the emotions, the words.

* * *

Westchester was all and nothing like Erik had expected. A gigantic manor, sitting lost and alone on miles of land. There was an ocean front access, high cliffs, wild lands, a forest… everything but people crowding in on them, curious or fearful of the Cursed. The manor was surprisingly well-maintained and had all the amenities he would expect of such a grand place. And a lot more. Sophisticated and far from anything he had ever seen anywhere.

Within a week Erik felt like he belonged here, with Charles, and despite the fact that he now shared his adorable little rat with others. Other Cursed ones, other gifted ones, as Charles told him. Like Hank or Alex or Sean. And Raven, who Charles introduced as his sister and who looked like she was descended from one of the Witchbreed, those who looked physically like demons. She had shifting abilities, but of a different kind. She seemed kind of taken with Hank, who was a half-Shifter, stuck between a beast and a human form. Really, really stuck. Apparently he couldn’t change back. But he was the brightest kid Erik had ever met and he had designed all the beyond-tomorrow wonders that made the manor such an incredible place.

He also designed a diving suit for a cat-sized rat, complete with a breathing apparatus and tiny flippers. Erik had stared, then laughed, then shaken his head and declared Charles mental.

The next day a chocolate brown rat was hanging on to a specially designed attachment to Erik’s dorsal fin, head encased in a clear, round bubble, dressed in a rubber suit. Erik felt the ripples of delight through their growing connection as he showed his lover and partner the ocean, his world. Charles was mesmerized, fascinated, and insanely happy.

As was the Shark who was gently and carefully swimming through his element with a landbound on his back.

* * *

Within a year the manor was filled with young Cursed – Gifted, Charles insisted – and Erik found himself growing very much accustomed to people around him. They were turning into a school, teaching the mutants to accept themselves, their gifts, their curse. Erik scared them, Charles was called Professor by most, and together they formed Westchester into what Charles had envisioned it to be. A town like Haven, the town that was a safe harbor for the Troubled; another name for Cursed.

Erik did go out one night and only returned after a month, but when he was back his blood no longer boiled at the name of Sebastian Shaw.

Charles looked at him, a soft smile on his features.

“Next time, tell me,” the other Shifter only said.

No anger, no accusations, no moral righteousness.

::You had to get it out of your system:: the telepath told him as he walked into the private living room. ::I believe it’s time for a new start now::

So easy. Such complete acceptance. No judgment.

Erik followed him, feeling lighter, more at ease than all the months before. Shaw was a bad aftertaste, almost literally. He was also the past.

His future was here, with Charles, the children. Erik was aware that others were still out there, others like Shaw, but also others like Charles. Those who wanted to understand and who accepted.

He smiled as he saw the game of chess sitting untouched on the low table in front of the fireplace.

Charles sat down, smiling back at him.

Erik took his place on the other side.

Charles had white. Erik black.

And Charles made the opening move.

Fin!

Anybody catch the small reference to another TV series? ;)


End file.
